


Can't Help It, I'm In Love

by Philosoferre



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Parents, Activism, Affairs, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Grantaire, Boys In Love, Combeferre & Enjolras Platonic Life Partners, Drama & Romance, Enjolras & Cosette Fauchelevent Friendship, F/M, Falling In Love, Feels, Forbidden Love, Grantaire & Éponine Thénardier Friendship, Irish Bossuet, Kissing, Les Amis de l'ABC Shenanigans, M/M, Other, Pretentious, Slow Burn, Song Lyrics, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teenagers, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, enjolras has awful parents, what ever this is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 21:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7523263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosoferre/pseuds/Philosoferre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras knew since his fifteenth birthday that his parents had arranged a marriage between himself and Cosette Fauchelevent. But he wasn't planning on falling in love with someone else along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To my dearest Mirela, the E to my R.

On the day he turned 15, Enjolras’ parents held an extravagant gala (birthday party, as they called it) at their mansion, where they had announced that he was set to marry Cosette Fauchelevent when he turned 18.

Three years.

His parents had been gracious enough to give him three entire years to worry about the marriage. It’s not that he had an issue with his fiancé: if anything, the opposite of that. Cosette went to the same private school as him, and she was extremely fiery, beautiful, kind, caring, nurturing, loving, gentle and above all, fearless. They looked similar, too: both with enviable blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes and porcelain skin. 

It’s just...Enjolras had a thing against arranged marriages. And he knew for a fact that Cosette had been pining over freckle-faced overly-awkward Marius Pontmercy since they were 12. Enjolras knew Marius: he was a good kid, smart, slightly oblivious, vulnerable, but incredibly kind. Like some weird Disney princess in a way. And he knew that Marius had been pining over Cosette for even longer. It pained him, knowing that Cosette and Marius could never end up together because of this...this stupid arrangement their parents had set up. It’s not like he had any freedom, anyways, but did they really have to plan his love life as well?

~

After the announcement and lots of celebrating, he retreated to the ballroom, where he spotted his best friends- Courfeyrac and Combeferre. The two were in love with each other, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of true, not-arranged love.

“Your father’s been looking for you,” Courfeyrac said.

“Can’t I get a simple hello?”

His friends smiled. Enjolras noticed they were holding hands, and had matching suits. 

“Well, this isn’t a simple party, so a simple hello wouldn’t do,” Combeferre said.

“I guess you’re right. I can’t believe my parents are forcing me into an arranged marriage- with Cosette, of all people. I’m 15, I should get a say in at least one part of my life.”

“I thought you liked Cosette?” Courfeyrac asked, clearly confused.

“I do, as a friend. It’s just...she’s in love with Marius and Marius is in love with her. I hate watching some stupid arrangement ruin their chances at a relationship. Besides, I’m not interested in her in that way.”

They both nodded in understanding.

“Well, you’re required to dance with her at least once tonight, and then you can give her up to Marius. He’s here, somewhere,” Courfeyrac said distantly, gazing around the room.

“Yeah, I’ll do that. You two going to dance?”

Courfeyrac and Combeferre exchanged looks before hastily shaking their heads.

“I don’t dance,” Combeferre said quickly.

Enjolras had never seen him so flushed and speechless before.

“Nonsense, Ferre. I’ve seen you dance several times. I know you know how to waltz, it’s mandatory here. At least one dance, guys? Give each other a chance.”

They slowly nodded, nervously eyeing each other.

“Great, this is the highlight of my evening. I’m going to go find Father, you two head out to dance already.”

He ushered his friends onto the crowded dance floor and sought out his father, who was discussing something business-related with some friends.

“Father? Courfeyrac informed me that you were looking for me.”

His father turned around and smiled at him- not a real one, just for the show.

“Yes. You need to dance with Cosette tonight, she’s somewhere in here. Get to know the girl, Enjolras, she’s bright. Smart young lass.”

“I know, we have the same classes. I’ll go find her, then.”

“Alright. Enjoy your time.”

“Thank you.”

Enjolras greeted his father’s friends before turning on his heel and departing to find his fiancé.

~

Cosette was chatting with Marius at one of the tables at the back. She was dressed elegantly, in her long black dress and pearl necklace. She looked too mature for a 15-year-old but, then again, so did everyone else.

“Cosette?” Enjolras asked.

“Oh, Enj! I didn’t see you there. How are you?”

“I’m good, and you?”

“Wonderful! Marius was just telling me about his grandfather. He’s here tonight, too.”

Enjolras nodded at the boy, who returned the favour with a sheepish smile.

“I hate to intrude, really, but we have to dance at least once together tonight. Shall we?”

Cosette gratefully accepted his hand and curtseyed, lifting the hem of her dress.

“Of course. I love dancing. I’ll see you later,” She turned to Marius with a wave.

“Don’t worry, you can have her back after the one dance.”

Enjolras led Cosette onto the dance floor, where they took first position and danced automatically to the string quartet, along with almost everyone else in the room.

“Cosette, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about...about the engagement. Are you happy with it?”

Cosette looked up at Enjolras with glassy blue eyes and softly shook her head.

“No, not really. I’m so sorry if I hurt your feelings, it’s just...I love Marius. I know my father only agreed to the arrangement to keep up our reputation, but...I’m not happy with it. I wish I could be with Marius. I’m sorry.”

As Cosette bowed her head, Enjolras placed his hand under her chin and gently forced her to look up again.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m not happy with it, either. I hate arranged marriages, and it hurts me that you can’t end up with who you really love. I wish there was something I could do, for both of us, but there isn’t. Not yet, anyways.”

Suddenly, Cosette grabbed him fiercely and hugged him. They stopped dancing, and were now standing still, holding each other. This was why Enjolras liked Cosette.

“We can still be friends though, right?” She asked in a small voice.

Enjolras tucked a stray hair behind her ear and smiled, “Of course. We’ll put on a show for the people, but we’ll still stay friends. I wouldn’t sacrifice our friendship for anything.”

Cosette mouthed a quick and sincere ‘thank you’ before the quartet began another song, and they danced again. This time, they managed to hold a decent conversation- about how Cosette wanted to show up at the wedding in sweats to annoy everyone, which made Enjolras laugh. He was having a good time, but he kept his promise to Marius and switched her off.

As soon as he was free of his obligations, Enjolras signalled to his friends, who were still dancing, that he’d be outside. They nodded, and he disappeared through the crowd towards the back door.

~

Enjolras sat down on the cold stone stairs, ignoring the bite of the wind and the darkness ahead of him. All he could think about was being confined to a woman he didn’t love. That he’d have to marry in three years. After a few minutes of silently thinking, he heard the door swing open and the pattering of footsteps.

“You all right?”

He nodded, recognising the voice. It was Combeferre. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just contemplating the arranged marriage and how crappy society is.”

Combeferre sat down beside him, taking his hand.

“I know, Enj, I know. But there’s nothing you can do about it, right? Not now, at least. You could always try to talk your parents out of it, but they won’t listen. They’re in for the status, the reputation- the money. You’ve heard of the Fauchelevent fortune, right?”

Enjolras nodded solemnly.

“Well, I bet your parents have their eye on that money. According to what I could wrestle out of people tonight, Cosette’s father, Jean Valjean-Fauchelevent, has a fortune of money stowed away somewhere, and when he agreed to the arranged marriage, he also agreed that he would split the fortune between you and Cosette and your parents. He’s sick, Enj, that’s why he agreed to it. He needed to find a good, respected family to take care of Cosette if he were to pass. And he has to keep up his reputation, anyways. Declining an offer from the Blondeaus is not a good way to go about it.”

“But- if he was looking for a decent family, why not the Pontmercys? Marius’ grandfather is respected and rich, too.”

“Yes, but your parents went to Fauchelevent first, and it would destroy his reputation if he declined.”

Enjolras nodded to no one in particular, staring out at the darkness. If there was light, apart from the gas lamps and the lantern beside Combeferre, he would be able to see the gorgeous view. His parent’s estate was situated on a flat meadow, surrounded by rolling hills and other large estates. He had a view of the little park near his house, where there was a duck pond and a small forest, and he was within close proximity of his pool and tennis court and the rest of his parent’s land. He would sometimes crawl outside early in the morning, and do some yoga while watching the sunrise unfold.

“I understand,’ Enjolras turned to his friend, who raised the lantern to look at him properly. ‘Ferre, what if I fall in love with someone else?”

He made a strangled, dying whale sound at the thought. It was highly unlikely that he’d ever fall in love, his ideals were far too important, but, it was still possible.

“Well, then you’ll have to blow off the wedding or divorce Cosette, not that I think she’d mind.”

“I can’t do that. It’ll jeopardize my reputation, my family’s reputation-”

“To hell with your family’s reputation,” Combeferre said hotly.

Enjolras blinked, wide-eyed, at his friend. Combeferre was usually calm and collected, not vicious and angry.

“I can’t do that to my reputation, Ferre, you have to understand that! It would ruin everything I have, everything I’ve worked for.”

A dark shadow passed over Combeferre’s deep brown eyes, but he only nodded.

“I know, Enj. But, if you fall in love with someone who isn’t Cosette, you can’t jeopardize your relationship with them. Besides, then you’ll finally give Cosette and Marius a chance.”

“Yeah, I guess I would. High school’s going to be so tough with a fiancé,” Enjolras sighed.

In three months, he’d be going back to school- to tenth grade. He wasn’t even in high school and he had a fiancé. At least, he’d be going to a public school and not that crappy, pretentious private school.

“Indeed. Come back inside, please. We miss you.”

Enjolras just followed Combeferre inside without a word. It would take him a long time to get used to the idea of a fiancé.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the three-month summer break, Courfeyrac and Combeferre had gotten their act together, which was the main reason Enjolras didn’t want to sulk in his room until he was 18 and he’d be forced into a marriage. 

He had already made several friends throughout his first week of high school. He had met Jean “Jehan” Prouvaire, a soft-hearted, kind, Romantic poet who, like him, was the only son of wealthy parents. Turns out, he lived close to Enjolras, so the two would meet up and do their homework by the duck pond. Then there was Joly, who wanted to be a doctor, and was hypochondriac. He had introduced Enjolras to his best friend/boyfriend Laigle, who preferred to be called Bossuet, and was ironically unlucky even though he was Irish, and their shared girlfriend Musichetta. Cosette became fast friends with a goth, scary-looking girl named Eponine, whose parents, the Thenardiers, owned a notorious inn in town. She had been willing to tell the group that her parents were abusive, which explained her attitude and mysterious bruises and cuts, and the fact that she was practically responsible for her younger siblings. Then there was Bahorel, who had loud political opinions and bright jackets, and his best friend Feuilly, who was an orphan in the foster care system and had an immense interest in Polish history. 

Together, the group of 12 had started a social justice club called the Friends of the ABC. Enjolras’ main goal: to eliminate societal discrimination and let the people have a choice in marriage.

By now, everyone in the group knew that Enjolras and Cosette had been forced into an arranged marriage, and were seeking to prevent it, because they only liked each other as friends. 

~

And then, one day, Eponine brought someone to one of their meetings. He had curly black hair and vibrant blue eyes, and a paint-stained green hoodie much like his own (except that his was red), polished combat boots and skinny jeans that should be considered illegal. He said ‘hi’ to everyone, and seated himself at the back with Eponine.

“Umm, Ep, care to introduce me to your friend?” Enjolras asked.

He was standing at the front of the empty classroom they used for meetings, sorting through meeting plans.

“Oh, yeah, this is my best friend R. R, this is our leader Enjolras.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” R said.

“You too. Is R short for anything?” Enjolras asked curiously.

“Yeah, it’s short for Grantaire. Get it, grand R? I know, my puns are lame.”

Enjolras couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t a bad pun, really.

“It’s not that lame. Anyways, let’s commence the meeting. Today I want to discuss the discriminative nature of high society and the upper class. I’m aware not all of you know of my experiences with it, so I’ll fill you in. Over the summer, my parents announced that they’ve decided to put me in an arranged marriage with Cosette.”

Enjolras couldn’t help but look over at where Grantaire was. He didn’t know what he was expecting- maybe a comment on his situation? But instead, all he saw was the man hunched over a sketchbook, scribbling furiously. He wasn’t even paying attention. Instead of telling him off on that, Enjolras took a deep breath and continued. He talked about the situations people were facing due to high society’s standards, and couldn’t stop himself from constantly looking over at Grantaire. Something about him was intriguing and mysterious. And Enjolras hated mysteries.

“These standards that high society sets are only holding people back from what they’re capable of. These standards are what separate the lower class from the middle class and the upper class. We-”

He paused, mouth still open, and looked long and hard at Grantaire, whose lips had quirked up in a little smirk. He had set down his sketchbook.

“What?” Enjolras asked.

“You really think that a bunch of high schoolers can destroy societal standards? You think it’s possible? Because that’s total egalitarian crap, and you know it. We have no chance. Society will keep remaking and adding standards, because the more important people, who happen to be the minority, benefit from it while the majority of us suffer. Society is cruel, humankind is cruel, and high schoolers can’t do anything about that.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. We have goals, ideals, and we’re planning on achieving them someday. I know we won’t accomplish them in our lifetime, but we can strive forward and someone else will continue our work. Someone has to provide progress to make humanity and society better, don’t you think? The least we can do is try, and as humans it’s our responsibility to achieve equality and freedom, at least within our community.”

“Well, then most people haven’t been very responsible, have they?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, do you? There are thousands of organizations and humanitarians and activists trying to accomplish our same ideals, and while they’re trying to achieve it globally, we’re trying to achieve it here.”

Enjolras kept his cold glare, even as Grantaire’s blue eyes darkened, and a shadow passed over his face. He closed his sketchbook and got up, saluting to the rest of the people in the classroom before turning his attention back to Enjolras.

“If I don’t know what I’m talking about, then you’re as dumb as they get.”

And with that, he left the classroom, closing the door behind him. Enjolras looked at the door in shock and confusion and awe.

“Do you know what you just did, Enjolras? Do you know what you did? No, of course not, you’re too oblivious. R does know what he’s talking about, but you don’t. You don’t know what he’s been through- an arranged marriage, that’s...that’s nothing compared to his experiences. Don’t go around assuming that everyone who opposes you doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Don’t you dare follow me, Mister.”

Eponine glared at him as if he’d killed her siblings, and stormed off, flipping a table on her way out.  
Enjolras watched in shock as she disappeared. He heard her call out for him, and then her voice faded away. He turned to the rest of the ABC.

“I think you crossed a line,” Courfeyrac said quietly.

“I know, I know I did. I just don’t know what line I crossed.”

Enjolras slumped down in a chair, burying his face in his hands. He had barely caught onto what had happened. All he could think about was what had I said that upset him?

Everyone remained silent, unsure of what to do. They had never been faced with someone who opposed their ideals, let alone stormed out of a meeting. 

“Well...Eponine mentioned that he did know what he’s talking about. Was that the line I crossed? Telling him he didn’t know?”

Combeferre took his hand, “Enjolras, you’ve been very fortunate with the treatment you received from high society. All you’re getting is an arranged marriage. Maybe, just maybe, what Grantaire’s experienced is far worse? High society discrimination and standards do not end with arranged marriages, they end with exiles.”

Enjolras looked up, meeting his eyes.

“You think he was exiled from society?”

Combeferre shook his head, “No, of course not, I’m just saying that there are far worse things than an arranged marriage, and you have yet to experience them.”

Enjolras looked down again and nodded. Just then, the door opened again and Eponine came in. She glared at Enjolras before returning to her seat.

“He’s not going to come back, you know. It’s surprisingly really hard to hurt R’s feelings, but...congrats, you did.”

Enjolras got up without a second thought and headed to the door. He turned to look at the ABC, who all watched him with wide eyes.

“Where is he?”

Eponine raised an eyebrow, “Why do you care? Going to interrogate him even more?”

“No! I want to make amends, that’s all. Where is he?”

“Art studio.”

Enjolras nodded, although he didn’t really know where the art studio was, and silently left the classroom.

~

He wandered aimlessly in the school for a while until he came across the art studio, which, surprisingly, wasn’t too far from the classroom they held meetings in. As it was free period, there were a lot of students working on projects or homework inside. 

Enjolras spotted Grantaire at an easel, working meticulously on some painting. He rehearsed what he wanted to say in his head a few times before mustering up his remaining courage, walking up to him and pulling up a spare stool.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?”

And everything Enjolras wanted to say just disappeared, and he didn’t know how to respond.

“I- yes, I can see you’re busy, but I wanted to apologize for what I said. I shouldn’t’ve assumed you didn’t know what you’re talking about, because obviously you do-”

“Damn right I do.”

Enjolras narrowed his eyes, “As I was saying, I’m sorry for my assumption. I had no information to back it up. It was a stupid mistake on my behalf. You don’t have to forgive me-”

He paused, looking up at what Grantaire was painting. It was a picturesque sunrise, and there was a gorgeous man standing on a chariot, aiming a bow and arrow at the corner of the canvas. The man looked a lot like himself.

“I want to forgive you, I really do, I just...can’t.”

Enjolras averted his gaze from the painting to look at Grantaire, who appeared deep in thought.

“May I ask why you can’t forgive me?”

“It’s long and complicated, I rather doubt you want to hear it.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. It seemed neither of them could give up assumptions.

“If I didn’t want to hear it, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“You sure you want to? You can still back out.”

“I’m sure.”

“My father’s parents are aristocrats, and he was raised as one, too, but when he was given the family fortune, he used it to fund some criminal organization or something...I don’t remember the name. My mom was one of their hostages, and he fell in love with her. Talk about awkward relationships. They had a brief relationship, then my mom cheated on my dad with an old boyfriend, and they broke up. Society cast out my dad because of what he’d done, and he retaliated by putting all that anger out on me. During their brief relationship, I was born and now my dad has full custody. And it doesn’t really help that my dad’s abusive, so...”

“Oh...I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Grantaire shrugged, “That’s fine.”

“What are you painting?”

“Apollo. In Greek mythology he’s the god of light, health, rationality and prophecy and in Roman mythology he was the sun god.”

“It’s really nice.”

They both observed the painting for a while, and then Grantaire turned to look at him.

“Looks like you.”

Enjolras nodded, “Please come to another meeting. I’m sorry about what I said, really, I am.”

“Fine, one more meeting. Don’t screw that one up, either.”

Enjolras smiled, “I’ll try not to. Will you come back for the rest of this meeting?”

“Nah, I actually have to finish this. Go enjoy your social justice club.”

“Thanks, I will. I’ll see you around, then.”

“Yeah, see you around.”

Enjolras waved as he left, almost running into another art student on his way out. 

~

When he got home, after a long argument with Professor Bamatabois about democracy, Enjolras found his parents hovering awkwardly by the front door. They had their hands clasped in front of them, in that weird we-have-something-very-important-to-tell-you-son stance he hated.

“Umm...Mom? Dad? Can I pass?”

They smiled at him and awkwardly shifted, just so that Enjolras had room to sneak past them and dump his backpack and coat on the hook.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” He asked impatiently.

“We’ll discuss it over dinner, but, firstly, you need to finish your homework.”

“Uh, yeah, OK. I’ll be in my room.”

Enjolras gave his parents one last weird look before grabbing his backpack and heading upstairs.

~

As he was working on a civics assignment, he got a call Courfeyrac.

“What’s up?”

“Did you see channel 5 yet?”

“No, I’m doing homework. Why, what’s on it?”

“Just tune in and call me after you’ve watched it.”

“OK...bye?”

“Bye.”

Well, that was weird. Courfeyrac hadn’t even known channel 5 had news programming until a few weeks ago, what could possibly be so special? He put aside his homework, grabbed his laptop and searched up channel 5 news. What came up was a special segment about two teenagers that had been beat up in an alley because of who their parents were. He bit his lip, scrolling through the article and briefly watching the accompanying video.

They showed two pictures: one of each teenager.

Enjolras’ breath hitched.

Those two teenagers were Eponine and Grantaire. 

They looked unconscious in the pictures, but what did Enjolras know about looking unconscious? It looked like they both had stab wounds and bruises, and Eponine had a bloody nose and Grantaire’s jaw was bruised. Enjolras immediately closed the tab and called Courfeyrac.

“I saw channel 5.”

“How did they get in this mess?”

“Well, Grantaire told me that his dad was involved with a criminal organization, and we know that Eponine’s dad works with Patron-Minette. Did you see their injuries? Do you know how they are?”

“Yes, I saw the injuries. All I know is that they’re at the hospital now.”

“Ok, that’s good. I’m going to ask them about it tomorrow.”

“I don’t-”

“Bye, Courf.”

Enjolras hung up and put his phone down, staring at his laptop screen. Right, he had homework. He put it aside and finished his work, but his mind was still elsewhere.

~

Dinner at the Blondeau estate was never a fun event. There was appetizers and drinks (or cider in Enjolras’ case), and then salad, some small talk, a main course and then dessert and drinks. While they were having their main course (some exotic dish with quail that Enjolras could not pronounce and rice with something), his parents finally decided to speak up.

“We wanted to know some things for the wedding,” his mother said.

Enjolras looked up and stabbed his quail for good measure. Of course whatever they had wanted to talk about was relevant to the wedding.

“Go ahead.”

“Watch your tone, son,” his father snapped.

“We were wondering if August 8 worked for the wedding date.”

“Sure, whatever.”

Both his parents gently laid down their forks and gaped at him in disbelief.

“Whatever? This is the date for your wedding we’re talking about!” His mother cried.

“The wedding I didn’t get a choice in!” Enjolras fired back.

He repeatedly stabbed his dinner, frowning, eyes narrowed. He wished his parents were on his plate, instead.

“You should feel lucky that we’re letting you have a say in this, young man,” his father yelled.

“What about my bride? I don’t get a say in that! Or, or what if I wanted a groom, huh? No say in that, either. Guess you’ve already decided for me that I like girls.”

Enjolras couldn’t stop the words. He hadn’t even thought about it before...if he liked women or not. His parents looked at him with horror and disgust.

“It doesn’t matter if you like girls or not, that is the only socially acceptable option. Now, finish your dinner and answer our questions respectfully.”

Instead of firing back, Enjolras stabbed his dinner again, and the only things he said for the rest of the evening was ‘yes, that works’ or ‘sure’ or ‘I suppose that’s fine’. After dinner, he stalked upstairs to his room, slammed the door, and called Combeferre.

“Hey, Enj.”

“Hey. I may have said something I didn’t really think about before today, and I kind of need your advice.”

“OK...what exactly did you say?”

“I was arguing with my parents (nothing new there) and sort of mentioned that I may not be into girls, and that it’s not fair that I can’t even decide if I want a bride or a groom.”

“Oh. OK. That’s not too bad, is it?”

“In my family it is. You and Courf are lucky that your parents accepted your relationship.”

“They had no other choice. I threatened to run away if they wouldn’t accept me for who I am, but I know Courf’s parents were just happy for him.”

“Well, still. My mom said that being into girls was the ‘only socially acceptable option’. She’s completely wrong.”

“Your mother’s wrong about a lot of things, Enjolras.”

“I know.”

“So, if you don’t mind my inquiry, but what made you say that?”

“I guess it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, but...I don’t know, Ferre. It’s not like I have a crush or infatuation or anything. It just...came to mind. That I may not even be into girls.”

“Hmm. Did they mention it again, after The Realization?”

“No. They kept asking me questions about the wedding, though. Apparently it’ll be on August 8, and the ceremony will be at some fancy church and the reception will be at the Luxembourg Gardens and Manor. Oh, and I don’t even get a say in the menu, so I might as well be serving everyone McDonalds.”

“You hate McDonalds.”

“My point exactly. Or, I don’t know, why don’t we just not offer gluten-free or vegetarian or vegan options because my parents are total crap? I suggested that because I know Jehan’s trying to go vegetarian, and if he’s still vegetarian in three years, I’d like to be able to give him something meat-free instead of asking him ‘will it be fish, chicken or beef?’ I hate my parents and their stupid, stupid arrangement.”

“Trust me, so does everyone. Hate your parents, I mean. I don’t know about the arrangement. Just...try and be as helpful as you can with wedding planning, because it’s not like you have other opportunities to help with it. And don’t start arguments over whether you like girls or not, because that’s a very sensitive subject with your parents.”

Enjolras flopped down on his bed, ignoring the multitude of pillows that tumbled onto the floor.

“Gosh, Ferre, I’m only 15! I shouldn’t be dealing with pre-wedding stress now! Or ever, for that matter. I had no intentions to marry anyone before that stupid announcement. I hate life.”

“You do not hate life, Enjolras, you’re just a 15-year-old faced with an arranged marriage and incredibly crappy parents.”

“Sounds like a teen drama, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it does. Don’t tell Courf, though, or he’ll search up High School Musical lyrics just to annoy you.”

“I won’t. I wish I was a girl, then I could just randomly get pregnant and run away to raise my child in solitude, separate from society.”

“I...don’t think you’d want to do that.”

“Well, thank goodness I’m not a girl, then, otherwise I have a feeling it would’ve happened ages ago.”

“True. Well, I have some homework to finish, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow, OK?”

“OK. Tell Courf I say hi.”

“I- how did you know?”

Enjolras smiled into his bed, “Because you always finish your homework at school, Ferre. Besides, every time you’ve said ‘I have homework’ or ‘I have a thing’ it’s code for ‘I have a date with Courf and we’re going to make out for hours so don’t interrupt us, please’.”

Combeferre whined, “That was one time, Enj!”

“One time that I know of.”

“Mind you, but we’re a very chaste couple.”

“Not for long.”

“Enj-”

“Well, you have a date to go to, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow! Bye!”

“Ugh, I hate you sometimes. Fine, bye.”

“Be a good kid.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“That’s ungrateful.”

“I’m just hoping you won’t be pulling this crap on me when you’re in a relationship.”

“I’m not that low, unlike you. Now go enjoy your date, I’m holding you back.”

“True. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Enjolras hung up and deposited his phone on his nightstand before sighing and flopping down on the bed again. He knew the only reason he was still dealing with the arranged marriage was that he had two amazing best friends at his side. 

He suddenly remembered what Courfeyrac had wanted him to see on channel 5, and he darted to take his laptop. He searched it up, fingers flying on the keyboard. Nothing came up relating to the incident, and he was relieved. Why? He didn’t really know. 

As he closed the tab, he realized that, well, when he had decided to check, it wasn’t Eponine he was worried about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...this is really slow. Like beginning of King Kong slow. Sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Enjolras was anxiously awaiting the ABC meeting they’d be having during free period, as they met every day, because he wanted to know if Eponine and Grantaire were OK. He knew Eponine was tough, and able to care for herself, but he’d only met Grantaire yesterday, and he knew nothing of his physical abilities. He was practically bouncing up and down the entire day, so much that fellow students and teachers started to questions his demeanour. Usually, he sported a permanent scowl and ice-cold glare, but today he appeared happy. People whispered if his twin brother had decided to fill in for a day, but he simply ignored them. He had more pressing issues on his mind.

 

~

 

When free period finally rolled around, he practically ran down the hall to the classroom that was already starting to fill up with members of the ABC. He settled at the front, greeting everyone with an uncharacteristic friendly wave and small smile, and his smile grew even bigger when he saw Eponine and Grantaire enter the room.

 

“Oh, there you are! How are you guys? I saw the news yesterday.”

 

“We’re fine,” Eponine said, rolling her eyes.

 

“Does this look like fine?” Grantaire replied, rolling up the sleeve of his green flannel.

 

Along his right forearm, there was a healing, jagged stab wound. He also had a bruise forming on the underside of his jaw. Eponine, on the other hand, just looked deathly pale, with bags under her eyes, and she had a small cut on her knuckles.

 

Enjolras’ breath hitched, “That’s...that’s awful. Who stabbed you?”

 

“At least it wasn’t my dad this time,” Grantaire joked.

 

Enjolras frowned, eyebrows furrowed, “But, you’re OK, right?”

 

“Yes, Apollo, we’re fine.”

 

Enjolras was about to question the nickname, but decided against it when he remembered the painting.

 

“I’m glad to hear. Let’s commence the meeting, then. Today’s issue is poverty in third-world countries.”

 

Grantaire raised his hand, “Wait, so, let me get this straight- are you guys like some non-profit Me to We wannabe?”

 

Enjolras glared at him, “You could put it that way, yes. We are a lot like Me to We, but we work on other issues, not just education or poverty.”

 

“But you just said that today’s issue is poverty.”

 

“Well, we have thousands of other issues we work on. We dedicate equal time to each individual issue.”

 

“Alright. Go on.”

 

Enjolras rolled his eyes, but continued anyways. He noticed that after a few minutes, Grantaire had pulled out his sketchbook and was doodling again...except this time he was also obnoxiously tapping his foot. Normally, Enjolras wouldn’t mind, but he was wearing combat boots and the heels on those things made lots of noise. He turned to look at him.

 

“Would you mind?”

 

Grantaire pulled out an earbud, blinking those wide, blue eyes at him.

 

“Mind what?”

 

“Obnoxiously tapping your foot.”

 

“Sorry, I was just listening to catchy music.”

 

“You could also try actually listening, while you’re at it.”

 

Grantaire raised his hands in mock surrender, “Hey, I said one meeting! I never promised I’d listen.”

 

He did have a point. An awfully good point. A true point.

 

“Fine, don’t listen, I don’t care. You did promise me one meeting, and I’m glad you showed up.”

 

With that, Enjolras cleared his throat and continued notifying everyone about the fundraiser he’d planned.

 

The fundraiser was his idea, but the rest was Courfeyrac’s. They’d be holding a karaoke fundraiser and a date auction all in one. Half of them would be at the karaoke station and the other half would be at the date auction. At first, Enjolras loathed the idea of a date auction or paying to have someone perform a song, but he gradually grew to accept it.

 

“The karaoke fundraiser will work like this: we’ll have a stage and a dance floor, because I’ve been told that people like dancing, and to either perform a song of your choice or have one of us perform a song of your choice, you’ll have to donate to the fundraiser. The date auction is similar, except that the half of us there will be auctioning dates, and whoever bids the highest will pay all their money as a donation. Sign yourself up for the one you prefer to do, but know there is a limited amount of people per station. I’ll just pass the sheets along, then.”

 

Enjolras fished the sign-up sheets from his stack of papers and passed them along. He was slightly happy to see that Grantaire had put away his earbuds and sketchbook, and had even bothered to sign up for one of the stations. Enjolras looked through the sheets when he got them back, nodding as he read.

 

“Ferre...date auction? Really?”

  
Combeferre flushed, “I don’t like singing in front of people.”

 

“OK, as long as you’re comfortable auctioning yourself for a date. Courf...date auction, obviously. Marius...date auction? Interesting. Cosette...karaoke, I like it. Eponine...karaoke, good choice. Grantaire...karaoke? I didn’t know you sing.”

  
Grantaire shrugged, “I do lots of things.”

 

“OK.”

 

Enjolras put aside the papers, continuing the meeting. He was rather excited for the fundraiser, which would be taking place in two weeks. There were more people signing up for karaoke, so apparently he had to fill the last available position for the date auction.

 

“So, Enjolras, what are you doing in the fundraiser?” Combeferre asked.

 

“Date auction,” he sighed.

 

Grantaire whistled, “You’re going to get so many bids.”

 

“What makes you think that?” Enjolras asked.

 

“Have you seen how you look?”

 

Enjolras opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Was Grantaire implying that he was attractive? Because he knew he was- he’d been told that his entire life. But coming from him...coming from him, it sounded new. Fresh. Like he actually meant it, not just as a nonchalant attempt at boosting his self-esteem.

 

“As a matter of fact, I look in the mirror every day, so yes. Anyways, we need to start designing posters and flyers and putting them up. Who can do that?”

 

Several hands shot up, including Jehan and Grantaire. Enjolras raised an eyebrow.

 

“This eager to volunteer, huh?” He asked, amused.

 

“No, I just do art. Thought you might want something artsy.”

 

Enjolras crossed his arms, “Alright. You can work with Jehan, you’re both artsy people.”

 

Grantaire and Jehan leaned across Eponine and high-fived each other. They would make a good team.

 

“Great, we can spend the rest of the meeting working on poster designs and fundraisers programming for the rest of us.”

 

~

 

By the end of the meeting, they had worked out the program and the details of the event, and there had been 30 posters made- 20 of which were Jehan and Grantaire’s. They were the power team. They worked incredibly fast, but their work was flawless. Jehan did the writing, which turned out beautiful, and Grantaire did the art, which turned out the exact same. Enjolras congratulated them on their work and (secretly, so none of the other designers could hear) promised to give them all their future designing jobs.

 

~

 

He was in a good mood for the rest of the day, even when Cosette and her father came over for dinner and they were forced to do more wedding planning. It was while they were discussing colour palettes that Cosette asked something rather sudden.

 

“Could Enjolras and I have a sleepover tonight?”

  
Everyone dropped their conversations and looked at her. She simply blinked up at them with innocent, blue eyes and ate her duck.

 

“Yes, of course, you should get used to each other’s company,” Enjolras’ mom said, smiling sweetly.

 

Enjolras rolled his eyes, “Not in that way, Mom. Cosette means an actual sleepover.”

 

“If it’s alright with Jean, then, yes,” his dad added.

 

Jean Valjean-Fauchelevent enthusiastically agreed. He thought Cosette and Enjolras had a wonderful friendship. So, after dinner, he went back to their estate to retrieve Cosette’s things, while the two teenagers headed up to Enjolras’ room. They lay side by side on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, gossiping, until her father returned. After he left, and Enjolras’ parents left for some business meeting, they headed downstairs to watch a movie in their pajamas.

 

“I can’t believe that snobs like us have animal onesies,” Cosette giggled as they snuggled up on the couch.

 

Enjolras frowned down at his lion onesie, and then looked at Cosette’s unicorn onesie.

 

“Firstly, we’re not snobs, that’s my parents and secondly, what’s wrong with animal onesies?”

  
“Nothing, nothing. You look undeniably adorable,” Cosette reassured as she scrolled through Netflix to find a movie.

 

“You too. Have you found a movie yet?”

 

Cosette shook her head, “Nah, Netflix doesn’t have any good movies.”

 

“Do you want to watch A Series of Unfortunate Events so we feel good about our own lives?” Enjolras suggested.

 

Cosette nodded, and he scampered off the couch to dig through his DVD collection. He found the movie, stuck it in the DVD player, and joined her on the couch, underneath his favourite red throw blanket.

 

~

 

After the movie, they headed back upstairs with a bowl of chocolate-covered pretzels and dill pickle-flavoured chips for some ‘heart-to-heart bonding time’ as Cosette called it. They brought out Enjolras’ mom’s nail polish collection and did each other’s nails. Cosette chose a dashing blush pink and sparkle stickers, and Enjolras reluctantly agreed to let her paint his nails black.

 

At around midnight, they crawled into Enjolras’ bed and turned to face each other so that they could continue talking.

 

“I’m so happy we’re still friends, even with the whole arranged marriage thing,” Cosette whispered.

 

“Of course we’re still friends. An arranged marriage is a lame excuse to end our friendship. I was thinking about this, and I was meaning to tell you, but...how would you feel if we divorced?”

  
Cosette giggled, “Why, do you have a crush? Let me guess, it’s R, isn’t it?”

  
Enjolras blushed, “No! I don’t have a crush, and certainly not on R. I was just thinking, if I do fall in love, or even if I don’t, we can divorce after we get married and then you can be with Marius.”

 

“You’d do that for me?”

 

“Yeah, I want you to be happy.”

 

“Even if it means destroying your reputation and giving your parents a reason to despise you?”

  
“Especially because of those reasons.”

 

Cosette put on her serious face, “No, but, seriously, do you have a crush?”

 

“No. You know me, I don’t do crushes.”

  
“It’s R, isn’t it?”

 

Enjolras sighed, “I don’t know, ‘Sette. I don’t know if it’s a crush or not. I- yesterday, when Courf told me about the accident, I was worried. But only about him. Not Eponine, because I know she can take care of herself. I was worried about him and I had only met him the same day. I need serious help.”

  
“That’s what I’m here for.”

 

“You’re such a good friend, you know that?”

  
“Yup. But, listen, if you don’t know if you have a crush on R, then just get to know him better and let your heart decide.”

  
“You make it sound easy.”

 

“It is. If you try. Besides, I already have a couple name for you guys. You are now my OTP and I ship you.”

  
“Oh yeah? What’s our couple name?”

  
“Enjoltaire.”

  
“Enjoltaire?”

  
“U-huh. I ship you, my precious little OTP. I might even get Courf to write fanfiction about you guys, he’s got Wattpad.”

  
Enjolras playfully hit Cosette with several pillows.

 

“You are not getting Courf to write fanfiction about us, because we’re not even a couple, and you are not saying Enjoltaire in public.”

 

“You’re wrecking the fun,” Cosette pouted.

 

“It’s what I do best. So, with the whole divorce thing...you’d be fine with that?”

 

“I want it just as much as you do. Not to be mean or anything, but, I don’t want to marry you at all.”

  
Enjolras laughed, “No offense, I don’t want to marry you either. I do want, however, to be best man at yours and Marius’ wedding. Make a mental note.”

  
“It has been mentally noted. And I’d like to be your best man at yours and R’s wedding.”

 

“Which will never happen.”

 

“It will one day. I am the all-seeing Cosette, I can see your future, and I know that your future consists of social justice clubs, being scary, lots of red, fluffy bed head, fundraisers, date auctions, prom, making out with R-”

 

“Don’t go any further.”

 

And that was basically how they spent their night. They both fell asleep at three in the morning. Cosette was extremely tired in the morning, but Enjolras was fine. He was used to minimal hours of sleep. Courfeyrac liked to say that ‘he never slept’.

 

~

 

During today’s meeting, they continued working on posters, and then Enjolras assigned them areas to go put them up. By the end of the meeting, they had put up all the posters, and were now lounging in the classroom for the remainder of free period.

 

“Are you guys doing anything special for the winter prom?”

 

Enjolras looked up at the speaker. Grantaire. Why wasn’t he surprised?

  
“Not that I know of. Why?”

  
“Well, it’s in a few months, and planning for these kinds of things can take time.”

 

“I’m aware. We still don’t know this year’s prom committee. It might not even be us. The school board chooses a club or group of people each year to design, decorate and plan all the proms or dances they want to hold.”

  
“And when do you guys know?”

  
“Usually mid-October. We have a few weeks.”

 

“All right.”

 

“Did you have something in mind for the prom?”

 

“...Nope.”

 

Enjolras couldn’t help but watch Grantaire with curiosity as the bell rang and he left the classroom. He was one of those people that you just can’t figure out...and Enjolras hated not being able to figure something (or someone) out. The thought bothered him for the rest of the day.

 

~

 

The next two weeks flew by. There was lots of meticulous wedding planning, dinner with other aristocratic families, ABC meetings, detention (a regular for Enjolras) and arguments with Grantaire. It seemed the two of them could not get along for a fraction of a second: everything Enjolras said, Grantaire had to pick on. But after every single meeting, Enjolras realized that these arguments, the opposition, actually made him better.

 

~

 

Soon, it was the day of the fundraiser. They’d be holding it during the last three periods of school, because some of the people at the date auction had offered dates for tonight. Enjolras instructed all the date auction people to come dressed in their best outfits, and for all the karaoke people to come in whatever was comfortable. When they all gathered in their regular classroom during lunch (they’d planned for their meeting at lunch, because there would be no free period today), Enjolras showed them the layout of their fundraiser space. The date auction would be taking place in the auditorium, and karaoke would be taking place in the gym, where they’d set up a makeshift stage.

 

“Everyone knows where they’re going?” Enjolras asked.

 

Everyone nodded, finishing their lunches.

 

“Great. Once my date has been auctioned, I’ll go check up on the karaoke people. Feel free to take a break whenever you want, if your throat gets sore or if you’re hungry. All refreshments and food at the fundraiser will cost money, even for you guys, so come prepared.”

 

The bell rang, and Enjolras watched as everyone filed out of the classroom, heading to their designated locations. Enjolras lingered behind, organizing and reorganizing his papers.

 

“Umm...Enjolras...aren’t you coming?”

 

Enjolras turned around to look at Courfeyrac, who was staring at him from the doorway.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

  
“You nervous or something?”

  
“Not really.”

  
“Aww, do you wish that R was going to be there to bid on you?”

 

Enjolras narrowed his eyes at Courfeyrac and pushed past him.

 

“No! Why does everyone think we’re a couple?!”

 

“...Because you act like one?”

 

“Excuse me?”

  
Courfeyrac shrugged, “You guys act like an old, married couple all the time.”

  
“We do not.”

 

“You so do, face it. No one argues more than an old, married couple except you two.”

 

“I- that’s not true.”

 

“Don’t fight your feelings, Enj.”

  
“I don’t _have_ any feelings.”

  
“Whatever you say. Come on, let’s go win ourselves some dates.”

  
“You’re in a relationship, why are you so excited about this?”

  
“Who wouldn’t be?”

  
“Me.”

  
Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, grabbed Enjolras’ arm, and dragged him to the auditorium.

 

Enjolras was the third person to go for the date auction: Combeferre and Courfeyrac went before him, both raising incredible amounts of money. Apparently, everyone had been dying to go on a date with the school’s ‘resident hot librarian-style nerd’. Courfeyrac just got lots of money because...well...he’s Courfeyrac. It was only after the auction was finished that Enjolras realized the winning bid on him had been $1 500. Of course it had to be the head cheerleader, Olivia, and of course she’d used her parent’s money to bid. He approached her after the auction.

 

“Why did you bid so much money on me?”

 

“Because I wanted to.”

  
“But why me?”

 

“Because you’re hot and you’ll make me look good.”

  
Enjolras crossed his arms, frowning, “You bid on me because I’m hot?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Unbelievable.”

  
Olivia looked at him, eyebrows raised.

 

“What’s unbelievable?”

 

“That you bid on me just because of my looks! What else?”

 

“Take it as a compliment.”

 

“I-ugh. Fine. Thanks for bidding, you really helped.”

  
“No problem.”

  
Enjolras glared at her before stalking off to find Courfeyrac and Combeferre. He found them getting cupcakes at the refreshment stand.

 

“I’m going to go check up on karaoke. You guys good here?”

  
“Mmhm! These cupcakes are amazing, who made them?” Courfeyrac asked.

 

Combeferre wiped off the pink frosting on his upper lip, causing both boys to giggle.

 

“Cosette. I’ll tell her you like them.”

 

“Thanks.”

  
Enjolras waved to his friends as he left. He could hear loud music playing from the gym, so he ran the rest of the way. It ended soon, and then someone else gave a song suggestion.

 

Enjolras recognized the person who had suggested a song as Montparnasse, an eleventh grader, and Eponine’s on-and-off boyfriend.

 

“What song do you want?” Eponine asked, smiling sweetly at him.

 

“Hey Brother,” Montparnasse replied.

 

Eponine flipped through the karaoke book and nodded.

 

“Who do you want to sing it?” She asked.

 

Montparnasse scanned the group of people, his vibrant green eyes settling on someone.

 

“Grantaire.”

 

Grantaire looked up, eyes wide, at Montparnasse.

 

“A what?”

  
Montparnasse smiled, “I want you to sing Hey Brother.”

 

“Why me?”

  
Grantaire looked panicked, and Enjolras hoped he wouldn’t ruin their karaoke fundraiser by backing out.

 

“Because I bet you’ll make a fool out of yourself by singing badly.”

 

Grantaire stormed up on the stage and took the microphone, glaring intensely at Montparnasse.

 

“What makes you think that?” He hissed.

 

“Just a feeling.”

  
“Well, feelings can be wrong. Cue the music.”

 

Enjolras watched in silent awe as Eponine nervously started the music. Apparently, she hadn’t heard him sing before either. Enjolras hoped for his sake that he was a good singer, otherwise this would totally backfire.

 

And then he started singing.

 

_“Hey brother. There’s an endless road to rediscover._

_Hey sister. Know the water’s sweet but blood is thicker._

_Oh, if the sky comes falling down._

_For you, there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do.”_

  
His voice was angelic in so many ways- perfect and soft and loud and powerful and beautiful all in one. Enjolras smiled to himself as Montparnasse stared in shock and everyone else in the gym started cheering and clapping and dancing because it was just so good.

 

_“Hey brother. Do you still believe in one another?  
Hey sister. Do you still believe in love, I wonder?_

_Oh, if the sky comes falling down._

_For you, there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do._

_What if I’m far from home?  
Oh brother I will hear you call._

_What if I lose it all?_

_Oh sister I will help you out.  
Oh, if the sky comes falling down._

_For you, there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do.”_

 

Enjolras noticed that right as he sang the last two lines, Grantaire was looking directly at him, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. He didn’t know what that meant. Did it mean something? Or was it just a ‘hey I noticed you’re here’ glance? Enjolras waited during the rest of the song to find out.

 

~

 

He went up to the stage after the performance, shouldering past exhausted students and fangirls who wanted more singing.

 

“Hey, that was amazing!” He called over the noise.

 

Grantaire walked up to him, smirking, “You think?”

 

“Everyone thinks so. Good job.”

  
“Thanks, but, that was nothing.”

 

“Nothing?”

  
“Yeah, I’ve already memorized this song.”

 

“Well, then, we’ll need to get you to sing a song you haven’t memorized.”

 

He asked Eponine to start bidding again, and within seconds the price was increased when she mentioned that only Grantaire would be singing the next song.

 

As Enjolras hung back by the edge of the stage, he felt a weird warm feeling. And then there were butterflies, too, when Grantaire looked his way, smiling.

 

“Any song suggestions, Enjolras?”

 

Screw the fundraiser. This was definitely a crush.


End file.
